This is a song about "Rounds pounds grounds"

I'm on a thousand islands like mcdonald's cows

New sheriff's in town i'm makin the rounds.

Cause i'm now, livin' this life with foolproof doubts

And talk about houses that they’ve burned to grounds,

Everything is subject to change like broken dollars

The thunder pounds, the stomach growls escape crack dealers,

Cuz bitches can manipulate in several different ways

Satan's horns, thunder pounds, pieces of an angel's face,

They be pushing more drug pounds than k-fed's weight,

He buy the benz where acres and crazy real estate

I was prevented from seeing/ a fifth grader and 135 pounds

And the blouses of these bitches always end up in my house

And i'm as high as deion feet is headed to the house

Especially with stomach growls, absent dads, thunder pounds,

I'll got three rounds like stephen bonner

Just blink twice and i’m there where you are